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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225674">From the Other Side</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNoHello/pseuds/OhNoHello'>OhNoHello</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hades (Video Game 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate POV, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sugar Daddy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:41:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,166</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNoHello/pseuds/OhNoHello</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The look as a whole lacked his usual flair, his over the top drama that he had, even with his ratty clothes. But the dressed down colors made the gold of the watch, his belt buckle, and earrings stand out all the more.</p><p>Simple. Plain. Uncomplicated. </p><p>Just how Hermes wanted this night to go. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Hermes' POV of the date from chapter 5 of Sugar</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charon/Hermes (Hades Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>181</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>From the Other Side</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So. . . who's ready to read the world's worst date from the other side :V </p><p>If you're coming into this new, this is an alt POV of an awful date from my other fic Sugar. </p><p>If you want to read it from the beginning click <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620252/chapters/67574318">here</a>. </p><p>If not, then thats cool too :D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Shirts and pants and one suit jacket lay splayed out over the floor of Hermes’ room. The drawers of the dresser he found on a sidewalk corner were cocked open crookedly, once again fallen off their rails, with the shimmering purple vest hanging out of it. Hermes had dressed, changed, dressed again so many times, he had lost count. </p><p>He buttoned up the brilliant orange dress shirt he had worn to the merger party and took a step back into his room, looking in the selfie camera of his phone and examining his ‘reflection’ on the screen. He twisted one way, then the other, then decided it wasn’t good enough and all but ripped the shirt off. </p><p>A nervous energy thrummed through Hermes, more rampant than usual. It felt foreign on his skin and as much as he tried he couldn’t cover it up, shed it, rub it off. Gone was the confidence he had when he first walked into Charon’s apartment, replaced with a continuous string of second guesses. </p><p>“Stupid stupid stupid,” Hermes growled to himself, looking at the 5 minutes he had left before 7pm rolled around. “This is stupid.” </p><p>He should have asked what kind of dinner this was. He should have asked for specifics. But everytime he picked up his phone he looked at his <i>stupid</i> answer of just plain simple <i>’sure’</i> and doubled down to commit to the confidence he still projected. </p><p>In a mad rush, he pulled on the white button down from their first encounter and the black ripped jeans from the second and took a look at his phone screen. </p><p>The look as a whole lacked his usual flair, his over the top drama that he had, even with his ratty clothes. But the dressed down colors made the gold of the watch, his belt buckle, and earrings stand out all the more.</p><p>Simple. Plain. Uncomplicated. </p><p>Just how Hermes wanted this night to go. </p><p>He breathed out, finally slowing down and smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt. Hermes thought about what he wanted. He wanted Charon, that much was true, but he wanted Charon as his. . . what? Boyfriend? Lover? Hermes had plenty of partners in his time, but nothing like what he had with Charon. He’d had actual dates with the man already, he’d met his family for crying out loud. The most he had with anyone else was a romp in their bed and sharing a pizza on the couch. He was about to go out on a dinner date with Charon. </p><p>Not getting enough attention, his phone screen went blank, but it didn’t matter. </p><p>He was ready. </p><p>He slipped on his winged shoes and felt suitably presentable for his date. He didn’t need Charon’s judgemental eyes to sweep over his body again. He wanted Charon to look at him as one way and one way only. Besides, wearing the gear Charon had given him was a silent way of saying <i>‘thank you for all you’ve given me.’</i></p><p>“Now let me give you something,” he said and stepped out of his apartment. </p><p>He trotted down the stairs two at a time and before he hit the landing he could already see the big black boat of a car parked where it always did on the side of the curb, hazard lights flashing red on the gutters. Charon, tall and imposing, stood next to the passenger side door, smoking his cigarette. He wore his coat over his shoulders again and his sleeves were rolled up to show off those arms. Hermes paused within the safety of his apartment building to really ogle his date. </p><p>It was fun, admitting Charon was attractive. He had done as much before, to the man’s face even, but to really and honestly look at him and think about how nice he looked, how genuinely hot he was, was a whole new different set of butterflies. </p><p>It was on the one hand a lustful sort of energy, an anticipation that this was something he could physically have. One the other hand, he was excited to sit across from that gaunt tree of a man all night long, staring into pale eyes. </p><p>The whole package. </p><p>Hermes ran his tongue across his teeth and tripped his way down the last of the stairs. </p><p>“Hello,” he practically sang, stepping out of his apartment. “And don’t we just look dashing this fine evening?” </p><p>Charon casually flicked his cigarette away and it extinguished itself in a puddle of left over gutter water. A fluid motion that moved from one stoic stance to the next. He opened the car door for Hermes. </p><p>“Thank you,” Hermes said in a clipped little manner before stepping inside. </p><p>Hermes watched his date carefully as he rounded the car. If he was nervous, Charon didn’t show it. Just as smooth and as focused as he had always been, as if nothing were different. </p><p>Hermes cursed him under his breath with no small amount of fondness. How dare he not have first date jitters on their fourth date. </p><p>As smooth as butter, he slid into the driver’s seat. Those intense eyes fixed solely on Hermes with some sort of expectation. </p><p>“Hi,” Hermes said again, excited nerves given away in the warble of his voice. </p><p>Charon spun his finger lazily in the air. </p><p>“What? Oh. Okay,” Hermes said, shuffling in his seat. </p><p>He turned in his seat, looking out the passenger side window. Two large hands looped around the sides of Hermes’ head and a delicate chain touched down at his exposed neck. Hermes tried to suppress a shiver at the ghost of Charon’s touch. A small cold round object found its home at the crook of his collar bone. When Charon was done clasping the necklace closed, Hermes plucked up the pendant. </p><p>A coin. A small gold coin that looked as if it had been made eons ago, hand stamped with the face of a long dead emperor. A hole had been drilled through the top, piercing the crown of the dead man’s head and leaving just enough room for a thin gold chain. </p><p>Hermes whirled in his seat. </p><p>“Is this from your collection?” he asked, holding the coin up accusatorily. </p><p>Charon nodded solemnly, leaning back in his seat. </p><p>Hermes didn’t know what to think of that. </p><p>“Huh,” he said and looked back down at the coin. He fiddled with it in his hands, the dulled gold catching the light. “Thanks. It matches the watch.” </p><p>He rattled the watch in the air, finally glad to see one of those ghostly smiles on Charon’s face. Charon buckled in and pulled away from the curb. </p><p>Hermes watched the city roll past in a blur of lights going at Charon’s grandma speeds. As much as he liked the rush of driving, of weaving in and out, he didn’t mind taking this night a little slow. Spending more time with the man who brazenly asked him out. </p><p>He searched his mind for something to talk about, anything, but the whole ordeal left him a blank slate. He read the signs, following the streets. As the proud owner of a monthly commuter pass for the subway or bicyclist, he barely recognized the above ground streets of the carefully laid out grid. </p><p>“So where are you taking me anyways? Should I be concerned? Are you taking me to the woods to murder me?” he asked in a rush. “Dinner and a show, might be fun.” </p><p>No huffing laugh. Hermes rolled his lips in on himself and plucked at the watch. He looked around the car, taking in the lit up details of the dashboard, the way the blue light illuminated Charon’s face and reflected in the windshield. </p><p>“You know maybe I should have bought you flowers or something,” he said. “After all you already got me flowers and I think its only fair to. . .” </p><p>Charon waved that off, dismissing the concept outright. </p><p>“Oh. . . okay.” Hermes jut out his jaw and looked out the window again. </p><p>“I’m gonna do it anyways, you can’t stop me,” he muttered. </p><p>That earned him a little laugh. Which felt right. </p><p>With that little bit of nerves out of the way, Hermes managed to find small topics to talk about. Little insignificant things. People he saw as they passed by, the latest model of smart phones that were on the market, the latest show that everyone was talking about but neither of them had seen. Nothing deep, no probing questions, no actual information given away. Nothing about families or tattoos, just hiding behind banal conversation. </p><p>Charon pulled into the bright lights of a busy street down by the dock side and Hermes only barely recognized the financial district. He had made a few deliveries there a handful of times, but those who worked in that part of town hardly relied on scrubs like Hermes to get their lunches. It must have been where Charon worked. </p><p>Hermes’ idle chatter died down as he took in the details around him. Charon pulled into a garage that seemed reserved for only luxury cars. Each parking spot filled with another vehicle the price of a small house. Charon pulled up to the valet and Hermes got out of the car before he could open the door for him. </p><p>The elevator ride to the surface was quiet and Hermes could taste the silence, feel it press on his shoulders. </p><p>“Anyways, my brother says this show really jumped the shark at the 6th season and I said point me to a show that didn’t do that,” Hermes kept going, not even knowing what he was saying anymore. “But then again he swears he can taste what grape is in what wine. I think he’s full a shit. You might like him.” </p><p>The elevator jolted to a stop and Charon looked at Hermes side long. </p><p>“Actually I’m not sure who you’d like in my family,” Hermes laughed awkwardly. He stopped and swallowed. “I got a big family. A big mess of a family. Lots of half brothers and sisters, my dad was a slut. Is a slut. I dunno, ignore me.” </p><p>Charon rested a gentle hand on Hermes’ shoulder. When Hermes looked up he saw the man that had rolled his wrist, that had paid attention and hung on the words he said. And remembered why he was there in the first place. He took a deep breath in. </p><p>“All I’m saying is if our roles were reversed, I would never have invited you to meet my family on a fake date,” Hermes said. “I would never subject anyone to that.” </p><p>Charon smiled and Hermes relaxed under his hand. </p><p>“How’s Nyx?” he asked. </p><p>There went that smile. The hand moved to his back, just between his shoulder blades, and he urged Hermes out of the elevator. </p><p>They walked out into what looked like an open shopping mall. Dim lighting lit the pathways in a brilliant shade of blue white. Store fronts shone multi colored in neat little rows. Shoppers milled about idly, each and every one of them dressed in outfits that cost more than Hermes’ rent. They passed by the stores full of designer clothes, bags, watches, pet gear, kitchenware, electronics. All things Hermes had only thought of a lifetime ago. </p><p>The hand on his back felt heavy as it guided him deeper into the mall. </p><p>Hermes felt a little stupid. Somewhere in the back of his mind he still fantasized about that fast food dinner with the ostentatious man. The mall was a far cry from that. </p><p>“Are we eating in a food court?” Hermes joked, imagining the food court to that place being filled with 5 star steak house food. </p><p>Charon’s hand slid from his back. He gave Hermes a long look before holding his arm out, indicating the mall. As if giving Hermes free reign. To whatever he wanted. </p><p>“Uh. . . are we . . . shopping again?” Hermes asked slowly. </p><p>Charon nodded. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Hermes looked over the stores with their gleaming diamonds and over wrought hand crafted patterns. “I. . . I don’t think I’m in the mood.” </p><p>Charon almost seemed surprised by that. His hand slowly dropped to his side and he looked out over the shops. There seemed to be a schedule that played out in his head and Hermes had skipped over several crucial parts of it. </p><p>Maybe it was looking for an anchor or some semblance of normalcy in their relationship. Or maybe it was just that Hermes wanted to touch Charon. </p><p>Hermes slid his hand into the crook of Charon’s arm. </p><p>They walked at Charon’s pace. He set the speed as he set the tone of the date. What that tone was, Hermes couldn’t quite pinpoint just yet. Hermes clutched at his arm, trying to parse what that all meant. He decided he was overthinking things. </p><p>Charon paused in front of an open shop that seemed to have no door. </p><p>“Oh damn,” Hermes whispered. </p><p>Inside was a showroom that practically emanated light; it might as well have been a mini sun. It was an open store with no racks, no tables, no displays. Just a single item for sale, on full display in the center of the store. A lone spotlight hung above, shining down like answered prayers from heaven. </p><p>A car. A sports car. Tiny and low to the ground, designed for speed and to make those tight turns. It sat, a gleaming gold in the showroom, car doors open and raised like wings. A stunning vision that Hermes recognized instantly, having once driven the older model after he first got his license. </p><p>"60 in 1.9 seconds, top speed 250, wheel torque of 10 k newton meters. . . " </p><p>Hermes hadn't realized he had stopped walking and started listing off stats that had long since been memorized in his heart. Feeling the quiet thrum of an electronic engine and the way the g force pushed him back in his seat. He didn't recognize what a rude date he was being until Charon leaned down into view. </p><p>"Oh shit, sorry I must've." He laughed nervously. "Lost myself a little there. That's a little embarrassing. C'mon, lets go." </p><p>Hermes got maybe a step in the direction they were going before Charon's hand on his back guided him to the store front. He tried to root himself to the spot, looking up at Charon incredulously. This could <i>not</i> be the man's idea of a date. But a quick nudge on Hermes' back was enough of an insistence. </p><p>"Maybe just a peek," Hermes said all but running to the car. "But if we're late on our reservations I'm calling it your fault." </p><p>Hermes circled the car, running a hand over it's lines. It smelled of fresh leather and rubber, just a hint of oil and gasoline. The metal squealed under his fingers. An addiction from long ago the rekindled hot in Hermes' veins. </p><p>He sat in the driver's seat, too far away to comfortably rest his feet on the pedals, but he ground the wheel in his palms anyways. He bit his lip, a soft whine that sounded vaguely sexual between his teeth. </p><p>He could already feel the road. </p><p>Charon rested his hands on the frame and leaned down to look at Hermes. Hermes paused, realizing how ridiculous he must've looked, and dropped his hands to his lap. </p><p>"Sorry, I know I'm a bit of a freak," he said quickly. </p><p>Charon shook his head and the ghost of a smile was all it took to warm Hermes' heart. That was the appeal of the man, one of the many things that attracted him to Charon. </p><p>That Charon didn't mind who Hermes was. </p><p>Charon listed a hand and signaled to the sales rep. </p><p>A cold lance of panic shot through Hermes. He scrambled out of the driver's seat and got in between the sales rep and the man who was <i>far</i> too loose with his money. </p><p>"We're fine!" he shouted, holding Charon back. "We're fine, we're fine!" </p><p>The perfectly polished young lady stood with her hands folded in front of her, looking confused and slightly disappointed, but smiled and nodded all the same. Hermes whirled on his date to stare up with terror stricken eyes. Charon looked just as confused as the rep.</p><p>"What are you doing?" Hermes hissed. </p><p>Charon's eyes darted from Hermes to the car and back again. Something about that kicked Hermes' fight or flight reaction into high gear. The man was about to buy him a damn car. A <i>car</i>. Drop just shy of a quarter of a million right then and there on a car. <i>For Hermes!</i> And that was just the base model. It felt wrong. It felt almost like a threat. A thing for Hermes to be afraid of. Alarm bells went off in Hermes' head and he stared up at the strange wealth monster before him. </p><p>"Don't. . . don't. Don’t buy me a car," he said hushed, as if it should go without saying. “Just don’t.”</p><p>There it was again. Charon's brow furrowed and he stood up a little straighter, confused by the words Hermes was saying and maybe just a little hurt. A twisted sense of guilt turned in Hermes' gut. </p><p>"Can we just go to dinner?" Hermes asked. "I'm. . . I'm starving. I just want to eat. Just put food in my face." </p><p>Charon sighed heavily and offered his arm again.</p><p>Hermes almost didn't take it. </p><p>They walked through the shopping center and Hermes made a point to keep his eyes on the ground, worried that if he even so much looked at something Charon would just buy it for him. While the attention was nice, it didn't feel right, being showered by gifts like that. There was a disconnect with the way Charon threw his money around like that. Different from Charon buying an outfit to make Hermes presentable for his co-workers and family. </p><p>Hermes vaguely wanted something and Charon would just get it, sight unseen. </p><p>It was a different attention than the acceptance Charon had shown him. It wasn't Charon seeing Hermes for who he was, but instead just giving him <i>stuff</i>. </p><p>Hermes didn't know if he liked it. </p><p>He fiddled with the coin around his neck, the chain feeling heavier. </p><p>The stores died down and they walked alongside the river. The pale lights continued to line the bank, making the slow running water glisten like stars. Hermes looked out over it, his grip tightening on Charon's arm. Charon paused, looking down at Hermes in question. </p><p>"Sorry," Hermes said, running his thumb over the dead emperor's face. "I can't think of anything to say." </p><p>A broad hand rested on Hermes' back and slowly stroked down his spine until it rested at the base. Hermes shivered, torn between the intimacy of it and the possessiveness. He looked up at Charon, his chin low and his eyes steely with questions. </p><p>Charon opened his arm and pointed to a quaint looking building that jutted out over the river. A string of lights danced just under a pergola awning leading to the front door. Laughter could be heard in the back where the outdoor seating was. Hermes took the initiative and stepped away from that possessive hand. </p><p>"Do you have a reservation?" the hostess asked. </p><p>"Do we?" Hermes asked behind him, sounding like an accusation. </p><p>The second Charon stepped inside, the hostess jumped into action. </p><p>"Oh right this way sir," she said, picking up two menus. "I didn't know you were coming tonight." </p><p>She led them through the dining room, heading further into the darkened din of the restaurant interior. Lit by lowered lamplight and candlelight on the tables, the tables placed claustrophobically tight together, but still managing to have a select amount of seating. Hermes gazed longingly at the outdoor seating, which was just as tightly packed, but had the benefit of open air. </p><p>He had never wanted a two dollar burger more in his entire life. </p><p>The hostess stepped to the side of a small table next to the kitchen with the perfect view of its inner workings. Hermes recognized a VIP table when he saw one. </p><p>Charon held the chair out for Hermes and dutifully Hermes took it. Like he was supposed to. It was an odd sort of sequence that split Hermes in two. He enjoyed the attention of Charon’s gentlemanliness, but there was an air of order, of society, that Hermes had long since shed. </p><p>“Please enjoy,” the hostess said, placing two single board menus on the table, and left them to it. </p><p>The menu left before Hermes was the same monstrosity from every restaurant he had been dragged to in a past life. A crisp clean thick piece of resume paper jammed into a velvet backboard, skinny font deep set into the linen listing out dishes that were named for their ingredients without any prices next to them. Hermes flicked the damn thing up, his mouth contorting to the side, reading them like hieroglyphics. </p><p>Across from him, Charon idly glanced at the menu and opened the wine list, just as impassive as he had been with the people in his life. Hermes could pinpoint the exact moment his decision was made and all Charon’s attention returned to Hermes. </p><p>He stared at Hermes, expectantly, waiting on the string of words that normally fell free from his mouth. It was as if Charon was asking him to speak on command, a bird to sing for him. </p><p>But he was still the man with rolled up sleeves who laughed quietly under smoke laden breath. Who effortlessly threw around his power either because he was trying to impress Hermes or because he simply could. Hermes honestly could not pinpoint which intention was for that evening. </p><p>He decided they were on a date and sang for Charon. </p><p>“So I got a new job,” he said. “Well kind of, not really. Its a gig by gig basis kind of thing. I’m pretty sure its illegal. Yeah pretty sure. Yeah that shit is illegal. I think they have me running drugs. I don’t ask so I don’t know, you know?” </p><p>Charon blankly stared at Hermes, taking in the words like a sponge. That air of confusion was on his face again. </p><p>“Whoever is running that scam is beyond me, but I don’t ask so I don’t know.” Hermes toyed with his water glass. “They can do whatever they like, I won’t tell the cops and neither will you.” </p><p>He pointed a strict finger at Charon who finally laughed a little. Just a little. And things were beginning to slip back into normal. </p><p>“Its only for a little bit anyways, until I have enough–” </p><p>Hermes paused and swallowed the rest of his words. </p><p><i>’Enough money to buy a laptop.’</i> </p><p>It felt like ammo that he would just be handing over to Charon. He was still on edge, half worried that he’d wake up to a sports car gifted to him outside his apartment. A computer was far cheaper, but just as unwanted. </p><p>Hermes downed his water. </p><p>When the waiter came, Charon ordered them a bottle of wine and Hermes bit the inside of his cheek. When the waiter asked what they would like for dinner, Hermes glanced at the menu again. Despite knowing the language it was written in, he didn’t recognize half the words. When ever quick, ever responsive Hermes didn’t respond, Charon did. </p><p>He ordered pasta for Hermes. </p><p>The waiter nodded once with a small <i>’very good’</i> and stepped away. </p><p>Hermes didn’t know what he wanted, but he knew it wasn’t pasta. Maybe he did want to eat that for dinner, maybe he didn’t, but the point was Charon didn’t know. Charon chose for him, Charon gave him without asking. </p><p>Hermes went for more water, but his glass was empty. He opted instead to frown into the rim. </p><p>Dinner went by in uncharacteristic silence. Hermes spent his time downing the pasta, and while it might have been delicious, he couldn’t taste it. He just wanted this done as quickly as possible. </p><p>He hadn’t felt like this since. . . </p><p>It was over all too soon and far too slow. Hermes twisted his untouched glass of wine between two fingers and watched the kitchen scurry around like so many mice. Not acknowledging the numbers Charon scrawled into the tip line. </p><p>They left the restaurant and Hermes’ legs twitched with the familiar need to run. To book it out of there and just find a path in the dark to trace for miles. To feel the freedom in the wind, the strain as he pushed against his body. To get away from the situation. A crawling sensation he always got when he was around Zeus. </p><p>Instead of heading back to the car, Charon silently led them further down the river. Away from the noise of the city, deeper into darkness. On the edge of the horizon, Hermes could almost see stars. </p><p>A quiet garden, not unlike the one from Charon’s company merger party, was sanctioned off. Large sculpted bushes lined just behind tall iron fences, entwined with one another in a beautifully twisting symmetry. Just beyond was a dimly lit path that turned between a row of color that would have been brilliant in the day time, but was haunting in the dark. </p><p>A roped off sign hung over the gate that read <i>Reserved for Private Party.</i> </p><p>Charon strode to it. </p><p>“Uh I don’t think we’re allowed in there boss,” Hermes tried to laugh it off. “Can’t you read?” </p><p>Charon only gave Hermes a small look before unhooking the rope and opening the gate. </p><p>“Oh.” </p><p>Charon placed that hand on the small of his back again, leading him inside. He knew Charon’s fingers were as cold as the dead, but the weight of it felt like a hot brand. A finality that Hemres didn’t have a choice in where he went. </p><p>It felt all so very Olympus. </p><p>They walked in silence. Hermes didn’t take Charon by the arm, choosing instead to meander the garden on his own. He stared down delicately planted flowers that had been chosen for their beauty and placed strategically to best compliment each other. A natural work of art that had been unnaturally transplanted for solely viewing pleasure. </p><p>He stared down at an orchid, surrounded by nothing to best highlight its importance and display. The desire to run had subsided, an odd sort of resignation replaced it. </p><p>Charon’s presence loomed at his side like a ghost. A hand on his shoulder turned Hermes in place and he was forced to look up at the man. </p><p>His eyes glowed in the dark, the gorgeous pale color that genetics had gifted him practically gleamed a spectral purple. He was close enough that Hermes could taste the nicotine, just as addictive from Charon as it was a cigarette. Those bone frozen fingers cupped Hermes’ cheeks and Charon bent to meet him. </p><p>Hermes disappeared in the kiss. He wanted this moment of intimacy, just this one, to be what he wanted all night long. The Charon that he had fallen for, not this act of a man that he was on a date with. The person who made no expectations of him, the man he played pretend with, and not the reality that he turned out to be. Hermes pretended, for just a moment, that the kiss was the one he really wanted. </p><p>Charon pulled back slowly and Hermes whispered on his lips. </p><p>“What is this?” he asked. </p><p>Charon pulled back a step more, the confusion he had worn all night more apparent than ever. </p><p>“What are we doing here?” Hermes asked. “What is happening?” </p><p>Charon’s hands slipped from Hermes’ face, hovering just off his skin. </p><p>“What do you want from me?” </p><p>Charon took a step back. </p><p>And he explained. </p><p>He explained that he would give Hermes what he asked for: a sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship. He would give Hermes nice things, buy whatever he wanted, provide him with every necessity he would need. Any little thing he could dream up and Charon would foot the bill for it. He would pay for Hermes’ rent, in a nice apartment if he so desired. He would give Hermes an allowance, set to whatever amount Hermes asked for. Spending money for things he would want when Charon wasn’t around. </p><p>And in return, all Hermes had to do was stay at Charon’s side. To pretend to be his boyfriend and nothing more than that. There were no extra demands, no requirements, all at Hermes’ comfort level. He wouldn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to do, just hold Charon’s arm and simply stay. </p><p>Those were Charon's terms. He paused and waited for Hermes to accept them. </p><p>Hermes took a shaking step back. </p><p>“No,” he said. “No. No I don’t want that.” </p><p>The necklace around his neck felt like a chain. The garden was a prison. Charon’s eyes were weights that dragged his fleet feet down. </p><p>“No. Absolutely no.” </p><p>Hermes put more distance between him and his date. He tugged on the necklace and the chain broke. He let it fall to the ground, getting lost in the dark. </p><p>"I don't want any of that." </p><p>Charon actually had the gall to look shocked. The pain in those ethereal eyes struck Hermes, which he promptly ignored. He reached out for Hermes and Hermes put another distance between them. </p><p>Charon saw him as a thing. An object he could just buy. He took Hermes out like a car he could test drive, liked the feel of it, and decided he just wanted to <i>own</i> Hermes. To have Hermes do what he wanted, pay for his company, be the pretty little thing on his arm and nothing more. </p><p>Gone was the man Hermes fell for. The overwhelming elation of those short words, of Charon asking him out, twisted sour in the back of Hermes' throat. </p><p>Charon went to touch Hermes again, to pull him back into the tidal pool swirl. </p><p>"Don't bother," Hermes sneered, stepping away from Charon’s hand. "I'll take the train home." </p><p>He marched out of the garden, hands balled into fists at his sides. He was glad in a sick sort of way that he couldn't hear footsteps behind him. That Charon wasn't following him. That he wasn't being chased. </p><p>He made it to the painfully blinding lights of the subway and managed to keep his anger up. He found an empty seat, dirtied from previous passengers, and plonked himself in it without care. He folded his arms tight across his chest in an effort to keep his anger in place, to stay enraged at Charon. </p><p>But his arms trembled. His lower lip quivered. His eyes stung. </p><p>He wanted the Charon who hung on his every word. The one who settled in close in their world of two, no matter the setting. He wanted the Charon who wanted him. </p><p>Hermes bent over, holding back angry tears, until his head kissed his knees. </p><p>He wanted to be the center of Charon's attention, not trapped inside it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I can't believe I wrote this hell date twice. I just want them to be happy. :') </p><p>Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/OhNo_Hello">OhNo_Hello</a><br/>Tumblr: <a href="https://scrumpylikesthings.tumblr.com/">ScrumpyLikesThings</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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